Part 23 (1/2)
”For rape.”
”You approved of it? The execution, I mean.”
”I wasn't there. You can't make a.s.sumptions about these people, Diana.” She hesitated. Diana braced herself. She knew what was coming, and she was determined to resist it. But instead, Tess took her off guard. ”I've asked my sister Sonia Orzhekov and Anatoly's grandmother Elizaveta Sakhalin to come to you this afternoon before the celebration. I hope you will listen closely to what they say.''
Which would be yet another attempt to talk her out of the marriage. ”I've learned a little khush,” said Diana defensively. ”You think I'm a fool for doing this, don't you?”
Tess smiled ruefully. ”That would be rather like the pot calling the kettle black, don't you think? It's easy to act on impulse, and much harder to think about what the consequences might be. But the consequences will show up sooner or later, and then you must prepare yourself to deal with them.”
”I love him,” said Diana stubbornly, as much to convince herself as to convince Soerensen. Then she recalled the intense blue of his eyes, the piercing sweetness of his gaze, and she flushed.
”Love is a compelling reason,” said Tess quietly, ”if indeed what you're feeling is love. But you don't even know him. You've never exchanged one word with him that wasn't translated through someone else.”
”That doesn't mean I can't love him!” But, G.o.ddess, what if Tess was trying to tell her that it was Anatoly who wanted free?
Tess sighed and rose. ”Just remember, Diana, that love is never the only reason.
I'll go now. Yomi said to tell you that rehearsal will start early this morning.”
Diana flung her head up and jumped to her feet. ”Oh, G.o.ddess! If I'm late, Owen will have my head on a platter.”
”Yes. I heard that the company will be doing its first performance tonight. What have they chosen to perform?”
Diana shook her head as she pulled a tunic on over her s.h.i.+rt. ”We've been rehearsing some of Ginny's reductions of Shakespeare. Keeping the content without the verbiage and-well, reducing the story to its most basic components and mixing in some of the dell'Arte conventions of telling a story without words, or at least that the words in and of themselves don't have to be understood to understand the story.
Owen has us working with gesture primarily, and tone and intonation. It will be fascinating to see how well it carries over.''
”I'm sure it will be,” Tess replied tonelessly. The two women parted, and Diana ran over to the rehearsal area. Luckily she was not the last one to arrive. Hyacinth jogged up at her heels. His white-blond hair was in disarray and he held his belt in his right hand, fastening it as he halted beside her.
”Why are you late?” Diana demanded as they walked together through the screens and arrived to find the others a.s.sembled around the raised platform on which they usually rehea.r.s.ed.
Hyacinth winked at her. He had delicate features and perfect lips, and eyelashes to die for.
Diana snorted. ”Male or female?”
He grinned. ”Both. Together.”
Diana laughed, choked it off, and flushed suddenly. ”I hope you know what you're doing,” she said in a whisper, aware that half the company was watching them.
”Oh, Mother's t.i.ts, Diana,” said Hyacinth with disgust. ”I may be gorgeous, but I'm not stupid. I've had days to watch how things go in the jaran camp. They invited me, not the other way around. I'm discreet, as were they.” Then he leaned down and nibbled at her right earlobe. ”And as you know,” he said softly, ”I'm very good.”
Diana shoved him away, fighting back a smile. ”I hope you're keeping track. At the rate you go, you'll sleep your way through half the camp before we leave.”
”Only half? I'm wounded by your lack of faith. 'Look, here come Owen and Ginny. Phillippe and I have a bet running-I say we'll do Lear, and he says we'll do Tempest. What do you think?”
”Anything but Dream,” Diana muttered.
Hyacinth giggled. ”Two men in love with the same woman. Too close for comfort, eh?”
”Shut up!” she hissed, furious that she was so transparent, and especially to Hyacinth, who was not only promiscuous but a notorious gossip.
Owen mounted the platform and surveyed his troops. ”We'll do our final run- through this morning and then move the stage to the performance ground. You'll have the afternoon off, but I want everyone back at-” He checked the back of his hand to read the transparency strip, but all such physical evidence of their off-world origin had been left behind on the s.h.i.+p that had brought them here. ”Ah.” He glanced around, perplexed. Ginny sat hunched over her notebook. His gaze settled on Yomi.
”Sunset is at 1900 Standard. Meet at 1800 hours.”
”As Yomi says. Now.” He paced from one end of the platform to the other, as if measuring it, studied the scattering of clouds in the sky, and motioned to Hyacinth.
”Puck. We'll walk the awakening scene first and then go back to the beginning.”
Hyacinth smiled charmingly. ”But you haven't told us what we're doing yet.”
Owen blinked. ”A Midsummer Night's Dream, of course. Come, come. We haven't much time. I'm a little concerned about the division between our world and the faery world. But one must a.s.sume that all human cultures have some understanding of a spirit world, of a world coterminous with our own. I believe that the mythic element must touch all human cultures, that it is there that we must seek our initial contact.”
At first Diana felt weak all over. Then she was furious. What would they think?
What would Anatoly think? It was like a slap in the face, like making fun of something that was serious, not a lark. ”You can't!” she blurted out. ”Owen, you can't do it.”
Owen blinked at her, looking bewildered. ”Can't do what?” he asked. Anahita t.i.ttered.
”You can't make me play that part. It's . . . it's ...” She clenched her hands into fists and found that she was too upset to go on.
”But it's perfect. Love's misunderstandings. Weddings. A comedy. It will play to the audience, and we will find a bridge across which we can communicate.”
Hyacinth coughed into his hand, hiding his smug grin. ”Poor Owen. I'm having no problem in communicating.”
Unexpectedly, Hal spoke up. ”Di's right, Dad. Considering what happened with Burckhardt, isn't it a bit inappropriate? What if the natives take it as an insult?”
Owen regarded first Diana, and then Hal, with a penetrating gaze. His usual vagueness sloughed off him like a duck shedding water from its back. ”I hear your reservations. But. I am right in this. Now. Hyacinth, shall we begin?”
”I refuse,” said Diana, before she realized she meant to say it. ”I refuse to play Helena. You're asking me to insult my ... my ...” The word was hard to say, but she forced herself to say it. ”My husband.”
”Ooooh,” said Anahita. ”My, my. Aren't we the little queen today?”
”Anahita,” said Gwyn in a soft voice. ”Shut up.”
Everyone else was watching Owen. Owen scratched at his black hair, frowning a little. Then he clambered down from the platform and walked over to stand in front of Diana. She wanted to take a step back, but she did not. He pulled at his lower lip, studying her with his dark eyes.
”Are you a member of this Company?” he asked finally.
She swallowed, but she met his gaze. ”Yes.”
His voice dropped. In an undertone that could not be heard five feet from them, but carried clearly to her, he said, ”Then do as I say. It is your choice, Diana. You are free to go, if that is what you wish. Although I would hate to lose you, that goes without saying. Now, will you play the part?''
Her hands were still tightly fisted. She lowered her gaze away from him. Of course she was out of line, disputing with him in this way. Of course she was free to go. She had always been free to go, as were any of them. ”I'm not free to go, and you know it,” she said in a whisper, because it was true. She was an actor. Her whole life had led her to this. ”Yes.” She could not look up at him. She felt their stares like a weight on her. ”I'll play.”
”Good.” He said it curtly but not without sympathy, and then turned and hopped back up on the platform.
”From Puck's entrance,” said Yomi.
”Sorry,” muttered Hal, with a lift of his chin motioning toward his father.